


The Distance Between Us

by finkpishnets (orphan_account)



Category: X Factor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-30
Updated: 2011-04-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 13:15:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/finkpishnets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt and Aiden stop whatever thing it is they have three months after Matt’s crowned winner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Distance Between Us

Matt and Aiden stop whatever thing it is they have three months after Matt’s crowned winner. There’s no big moment or hurt talk, and Matt sometimes thinks that maybe that would have been better; instead they just drift apart, Matt caught up in the whirlwind that’s become his life and Aiden fighting to keep himself in the game, until one day they’re in the same place at the same time and- _nothing_.

He still _wants_ Aiden, still feels the itch in his fingertips whenever they’re not touching, but there’s something else between them now, something verging on forced and Aiden must feel it too because he doesn’t invade Matt’s personal space, and his smile – the one Matt’s always thought of as _his_ – isn’t as bright as it used to be.

 _That’s okay_ , Matt thinks. His life is so full, so crazy, that he really doesn’t have time for a nineteen-year-old boy he’s known for a matter of months even if it’s _Aiden_ , even if the thought of not talking to him every day seems foreign and confusing. The hug Aiden gives him when he leaves is nice and friendly but nothing more and Matt thinks that once again they’re on the same page.

It’s sad but it’s probably for the best.

 

+

 

The first week he’s in L.A. Rihanna invites him to a party – he still can’t believe he’s _performed_ with her, let alone apparently made enough of an impression to become something like a friend – and it’s about as A List as you can get. Matt probably drinks too much or maybe he doesn’t drink enough because everyone else is loose and free and he sort of feels like he’s going to throw up he’s so nervous.

 _Ten points if you can name a pop star I’m not partying with_ , he texts Aiden, and it’s only after he’s pressed send that he remembers that, oh right, they don’t do this anymore. Still, five minutes later his phone buzzes.

 _If you get me Ke$ha’s number I’ll buy you a pony_ , Aiden replies, and something in Matt’s chest loosens just a little.

 _Screw the pony, I want a fucking unicorn_ , he says, wandering over to the bar to top up his drink and making the effort to smile at people in a way he hopes doesn’t look too forced and/or starstruck. Aiden doesn’t text him back but that’s okay, and he lets Rihanna take his arm and introduce him to people, blushing happily every time she sings his praises.

 

+

 

Matt starts dating Cassie two months before his album drops and a month before hers does; she’s pretty and sweet and already has the world eating out of her hand over a few singles. She comes with an indie label and enough industry cred to have Simon nodding his approval, and Matt’s not dating her because of that but it doesn’t hurt.

They don’t see each other as much as they’d like – one or both of them is always in the studio or doing the interview rounds – but they make it work, calling and texting between visits and there’s something incredibly simple about it.

The press think they’re adorable, take crap rumours from the competition and talk about Cass being the girl to finally make him settle down; Cassie laughs it off, says that it could be a lot worse than pictures of them shopping with captions about domesticity, and Matt knows she’s right, gets that this is the _good_ type of publicity, but it still feels weird.

They attend the right events together, stand side by side for photographs, and there’s something reassuring about the feel of her back against his hand. When she smiles he smiles back and they answer questions with an unpractised synchronicity that has interviewers wrapped around their little fingers.

It’s nice and effortless and comfortable, and Matt just holds Cassie’s hand and continues taking on the world.

 

+

 

Aiden starts dating an actress from Hollyoaks and two days later Matt and Cassie break up.

Matt would like to think it’s purely coincidence but he’s never been that delusional.

 

+

 

The album goes down well, great even, and _yeah_ he has to fight for the top spot but that’s okay; this was always about the music more than the fame and he has his fans now, can play to them and know they _get it_ , and Simon’s frowns barely phase him anymore.

Dannii calls from Melbourne to congratulate him and they end up talking for an hour about Ethan and her fashion label and the songs he’s been writing and it’s lovely, exactly as it’s always been, so he doesn’t know why he’s surprised when she asks about Aiden.

“How is he?” she says. “I want to grill him on the new tracks he’s writing but he’s been MIA lately.”

And Matt- Matt doesn’t have an answer.

He hasn’t spoken to Aiden in four months, one week and twelve days, and he can admit to himself that it’s killing him a little.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly, and hears Dannii’s hum of surprise. “We don’t really speak anymore.”

Dannii’s quiet for long enough that Matt wonders if maybe the connection’s died, but when she speaks she sounds soft and sad.

“Oh _Matt_ ,” she says, and Matt shuts his eyes, squeezes them closed and pretends he doesn’t know what she means. “Call him,” Dannii goes on. “For goodness sake, _call him_.”

“Yeah,” Matt says noncommittally and asks about Ethan’s nursery in an attempt to change the subject.

Dannii lets him. He’s pretty sure it’s out of pity.

 

+

 

Matt’s asleep, the first chance he’s had in ages to just collapse in his own bed in his London flat, when his phone buzzes on the bedside table, and he’d ignore it except now he’s in the habit of being at someone’s beck and call.

 _McDonalds?_ Aiden says, and Matt actually has to turn his phone off and on again and check the info just to make sure it’s not a text from months and months ago.

It’s not.

 _Give me twenty minutes_ , he sends back, already pulling on his jeans and grabbing a coat from the wardrobe, and he’s out the door before his brain really processes what it’s doing.

“Hi,” Aiden says when Matt gets there, and he looks exactly the same, shoulders hunched inside his oversized cardigan, lip caught between his teeth, and the way Matt’s chest clinches actually _hurts_.

“Hey,” he says instead, and Aiden looks hesitant for a moment before he wraps one arm around Matt’s shoulder, a strained imitation of a hug, and Matt goes with it because it’s the closest they’ve been in what feels like forever.

Inside they order too much food and ignore the way the guy behind the register’s eyes light up with recognition; it was bad enough when they were on the show but now it’s something Matt’s almost getting used to and he imagines it’s the same with Aiden.

“So,” Matt says when they’re sitting down, “what’s up?”

“Nothing,” Aiden says, and Matt’s not sure it would convince a stranger, let alone him. “Just heard you were back in town.”

It’s says a lot that Matt lets the lie pass.

They talk about nothing – the music they’re listening to, the acquaintances they share, the places they’ve been – and Matt hates it, hates that Aiden’s right in front of him and far enough away to make him feel sick, that all they share is small talk and pleasantries like they don’t know each other inside and out.

Maybe that’s why he’s not surprised when Aiden catches his hand as they leave, fingers curling against Matt’s palm hesitantly, and Matt nods and squeezes back for a moment before dropping his arms to his side and leading the way.

 

+

 

They wait until Matt’s front door clicks shut behind them and then they’re kissing like they haven’t in so long, perhaps ever, stumbling back into the flat as Matt feels out doorknobs, refusing to stop now they’ve started.

Aiden sighs into his mouth as he finds the right room and walks them back towards the bed, and he doesn’t protest as his knees hit the frame, tumbling onto the sheets; it’s so like old times and so not that Matt takes a moment just to look at him, hair mussed and pupils blown, and Matt’s missed this _so fucking much_.

He runs blunt nails down Aiden’s sides, presses open-mouthed kisses against his stomach just to feel the muscles tremble, and tries not to think about how long it’s been, how much has changed. Aiden arches beneath him as he dips lower, unzipping Aiden’s jeans and pressing his mouth to the front of his underwear, breathing until Aiden’s hands grip the hairs at the back of his neck sharply, and then pulling up to kiss him again.

“ _Matt_ ,” Aiden says, “ _please_ ,” and Matt pushes at his clothes before tugging off his own.

It’s not until he’s twisting three fingers into Aiden who’s arching off the bed, eyes squeezed tightly shut, that he lets himself think ‘ _I still love you_ ’ and ‘ _this is going to end in disaster_ ’.

 

+

 

He doesn’t sleep, just closes his eyes and feels the way Aiden’s body moulds against his side like it always has, pretends to himself that he needs to lock it to memory even though it’s there forever anyway, and when Aiden’s phone rings, loud against the silence, it doesn’t make him jump because he’s sort of been expecting it.

“Sorry,” Aiden says, running a hand carelessly across his eyes as he grabs for his jeans, “it’s Mel. I’ve got to go.”

The real blow is that he sounds like he means it, like he really is _sorry_ to be leaving Matt and going back to his hot girlfriend who has no idea where he is or what he’s just done, and Matt hates that. Hates that Aiden feels like he owes him anything.

“I’ll talk to you later?” Aiden says, and Matt nods because it’s selfish and stupid but he can’t let Aiden disappear again. Not this time.

The sound of the front door shutting quietly is the saddest thing Matt’s heard in a long time.

 

+

 

Aiden doesn’t call.

Matt would love to pretend that he isn’t checking his phone every ten minutes just in case but he’d only be lying to himself. He scrolls through his contacts list a couple of times, finger hovering over the dial button, but he can’t bring himself to do it because this isn’t his move, it’s Aiden’s, and he hates that his life has become so calculated but there’s not a whole lot he can do about it now.

He works and writes and smiles for a hundred cameras and loses himself in convincing the world that he’s not another single-album success story, and it’s almost enough to make him forget the way Aiden’s skin tasted under his tongue.

 _Almost_.

 

+

 

It’s Harry that tells him about the break-up.

“You didn’t know?” he says, and Matt can hear someone hissing in his ear, presumably Louis though the five of them are getting more and more inseparable with time.

“No,” he says, then: “we don’t really keep in touch.”

“That’s fucking stupid,” Louis says into the mouthpiece and Matt nods even though they can’t see him.

“Anyway,” Harry says, “it was, like, a month ago or something. We went over to Aiden’s in case he needed cheering up. Niall made brownies but Liam threw them out when he realised they probably weren’t exactly _legal_.”

“Simon will kill you if he ever finds out you even know what the word marijuana _means_ ,” Matt says, and Harry laughs in agreement.

“Aiden seemed okay though,” he says, “better than we expected.”

“Good,” Matt says, tugging at the loose thread on his sleeve. “That’s good.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, “it is.”

Matt thinks it’s probably pathetic that a seventeen year old sounds more in touch than he’ll ever be.

 

+

 

There are a thousand places that he could be right now that aren’t Aiden’s doorstep but his feet had just started walking and now he’s here, stuck between knocking and running away and feeling like a coward whichever route he takes.

He knocks. He’s always been a bastard.

“Matt,” Aiden says, and he doesn’t sound shocked so much as resigned.

“Hey.”

Neither of them move and Matt thinks that’s probably for the best; if Aiden invited him in right now he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from touching him, kissing him, and that’s not what this has to be about, not this time.

“What’s up?” Aiden says when the silence has dragged for too long. He’s wearing one of his trademark cardigans and it helps to see him looking like he did way back when they first met and everything was so much easier even amongst the chaos.

“I just- I needed to see you,” Matt says, and it’s only when the words are out of his mouth that he realises how true they are.

Aiden doesn’t answer, looks down so his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks and shuffles his feet like he wants to be anywhere but here, and Matt hates that he makes him feel so uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” Matt says, “you didn’t want this last time, I don’t know why you’d want it now.”

Aiden frowns. “Huh?”

“Just- last time we tried this it didn’t work. It just _ended_.”

“Matt,” Aiden says looking up, “Matt, I did it for _you_.”

Matt blinks. “What?”

Aiden sighs, runs a hand through his hair, and grins in a way that’s too bitter for Matt to bear. “You were the one who didn’t want this anymore; I just let you get away with it.”

“No,” Matt says, frowning, “I-”

“You had doubts and you wouldn’t talk to me about them so you shut yourself off until you stopped caring,” Aiden says. “It’s okay. I wasn’t surprised”

And the awful, fucking _dire_ truth of it is that he’s _right_. Matt hadn’t thought about it, had selfishly assumed that Aiden felt the same way he did and hadn’t stopped for a second to ask him otherwise.

“I’m sorry,” he says, because that’s the most important part.

Aiden nods like he understands and that’s even worse because Matt knows he _does_ , knows he’d never blame Matt for any of it even when everything’s Matt’s fault.

“Do you want to come in?” Aiden says, and Matt shakes his head.

“No,” he says, “no I should go.”

“Yeah,” Aiden says, biting his lip and not looking Matt in the eye.

“Bye,” Matt says, and Aiden just offers him an awkward wave in return.

He doesn’t shut the door until Matt’s gone. Matt isn’t sure if that’s a good thing.

 

+

 

He doesn’t recognise the number but there’s a time and an address and then a text from Louis saying _ffs, go!_ and it’s all really weird but he’s used to people telling him where he needs to be these days so he grabs a jacket and his keys and leaves.

It’s a restaurant, one he’s not been to before, but it’s dark and private and there doesn’t seem to be anyone with a camera anywhere so he walks in and gives the hostess his name and lets her lead him to a table near the back that’s empty except for a bread bowl and two empty place settings.

Matt only has to wait three and a half minutes before someone slides into the seat opposite him.

“Hi,” Aiden says, and Matt blinks and goes to reply when he’s cut off. “I’m Aiden. I’m a twenty year old singer who very, very occasionally appears in the pages of gossip magazines, and I have the worlds biggest crush on you.”

“Right,” Matt says, “uh, Aid? What’s going on?”

Aiden smiles, something soft and hopeful.

“This is a fresh start,” he says. “Or something like it. I let you run away last time and I can’t do that again, but I need to know it won’t be the same.”

Aiden’s always been an open book, it’s one of the things that drew Matt to him in the first place, and Matt gets it now, gets that Aiden’s putting his heart on the table and begging Matt to look after it like he didn’t before, and it’s _a lot_ , maybe too much, but Matt’s not the person he was last year.

“I love you,” he says, and Aiden nods.

“I know. I love you too. But this has to be about more than that.”

This could end in disaster, has before and this time they have so much more to lose, but Aiden’s looking at Matt like he’s the only thing he can see – the look Matt used to take for granted because he didn’t understand how much he needed Aiden to look at him like that – and it’s terrifying and crazy and going to take _so much work_.

“Hi,” he says, reaching across the table so his fingers graze Aiden’s, “I’m Matt. I’m an almost-thirty year old musician who needs to prove his worth to the world every day, and I think a fresh start sounds perfect.”

Aiden grins.

It’s enough.


End file.
